


Moment of Destruction

by amaradangeli



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3989104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaradangeli/pseuds/amaradangeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the heroes hug was actually the heroes kiss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moment of Destruction

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the other works in this collection prompted by a discussion on twitter.

The moment her eyes began to melt onto her cheeks he started calculating whether or not _this_ was the moment. A moment of truth or a moment of destruction, he wasn't sure, but it felt like the moment. The pivotal moment, the second then second second people talked about _later_.

She pressed her lips together, she gasped, she exhaled, she quivered and it took just three steps towards her for him to realize the decision had been made at the moment he'd been spared and her best friend hadn't.

He maintained the pretense of looking at her. Her eyes, her lips, her eyes, her quivering lips… It was a moment of truth. Two words and he could have her in his arms, his face pressed into the warm skin of her neck, her arms wrapped around him. Just two little words and he could keep the status quo.

Or, he could lift his hands to her face, brush the tears from the corners of her eyes with his thumbs…

And then he was. The warm, smooth flesh of her cheeks, the hot checked tears, the slight twitch of her muscles that were trying not to cry. Moment of truth? Yes. The truth was she felt right in his hands, the way her cheekbones were the right length for his fingers, how the proportions of her face fit the proportions of his hands, the way their synchronous heights allowed him to drop his mouth down onto hers.

The moment of truth when she didn't gasp against him, when she wasn't shocked or startled but the way she shifted into him. She breathed out her pain and he breathed her in. The way her mouth never completely closed against him felt like the way things were supposed to be. They breathed each other in and out for long moments before he pushed her lips open with his.

She was warm and smooth and a little salty with the tears he'd forgotten to wipe away. And it was her tongue, first, dragged slowly across his bottom lip. Then it was his, twisting and curling around hers, pulling her into his mouth. After that it was the smooth ridge of her teeth, then the sharper cut of her molars.

He was wrong, it wasn't a moment of truth, it was a moment of destruction. Because with the flick of the tip of her tongue the walls he'd so carefully erected were lost to her and the sharp suck of breath she stole from him.

He lost himself long enough to nip at her lips, then remembered why they were kissing in the first place and he slowed, calmed, worked her over with strong, sure lips and pulled strength right out of her knees up through her mouth.

He anchored her to him. His feet wide planted on the floor, he wrapped her up in his arms and steadied them both. She was so sad he could taste it, sad and scared and so, so glad she was sick with it and he took it from her, one slow, languorous kiss after another, he soothed her until she could pull away from him and meet his eye.

In her eyes he could see her own destruction. It was made up of relief and loss, but mostly, it was the crumbling of her same protective walls. She dropped her eyes, focused on his lips, but she didn't kiss him. She smiled.


End file.
